A/N: Fair warning, this is literally completely unedited due to lack of time, so I hope it at least makes sense ;)
Santana wakes in the morning feeling refreshed, an extra awesome dream having helped in that department. Something with Rachel and whips and chains, and suddenly being whipped didn't really sound all that bad. She wears a slightly mischievous smile as she heads off to start her morning routine.
She ended up letting Puck stay the night, figuring that the boy can take it as his Christmas gift. Quinn made him sleep on the couch anyway―probably because of the weed―and he slipped out on his own early in the morning. Despite his shitty family situation of late, he still had a shitty family Christmas to attend.
By the time Santana gets dressed and goes downstairs, Quinn is lounging on the living room couch with a cup of tea and a book. "Hey," she greets softly when she catches sight of the Latina.
"Hey," Santana smiles in return. "So... I have something for you," she says playfully as she enters the room, her hands hidden behind her back.
Quinn arches a wary eyebrow. "Really?" she asks cautiously.
Santana just nods as she settles down on the edge of the couch, pulling a relatively small gift bag out from behind her back and placing it down by the blonde's legs. "Merry Christmas," she smiles softly.
Quinn looks down at the bag wide-eyed, then over to the brunette. "S..." it comes out as a bit of a whine, a guilty look across her features as she pulls herself upright, placing her book and mug down on the coffee table. "I didn't get you anything..."
Santana scoffs lightly and waves a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it, Q. It's not like we talked about exchanging gifts or anything, I just saw it and thought it would be perfect for you." The blonde's expression doesn't shift, though, the girl still looking apologetic as hell, and Santana rolls her eyes. "Just open it, fatty," she smiles.
Quinn's brow drops and she shakes her head for a moment before she finally chances a glance down into the bag between her hands. She gently shifts the tissue paper aside, and when she catches sight of the gift, all the colour drains from her face. She looks back up with an absolute glare. "What the fuck is that?"
Santana smirks. "Well, what the fuck do you think it is?"
Quinn pushes the bag away from her body along the couch. "I think it's the most ridiculous thing you could have ever gotten me. I wouldn't even know what to do with it," she shakes her head.
The Latina arches an eyebrow. "Well, you know, I would've thought you'd be familiar with the mechanics involved in these things by now..." She holds up a loose fist before inserting two fingers into it. "It's pretty fucking simple."
Quinn looks slightly mortified but rolls her eyes. "Thanks for the sex ed. lesson, perv."
Santana shrugs a shoulder before an absolutely lecherous grin spreads across her lips. "I could always give you a personal lesson, if you want... you know, show you how to use it..." she adds with a raise of her eyebrows.
The blonde's eyes widen and she laughs incredulously.
Santana lets her mouth settle back into a soft smile. "Seriously though, Q, you need to get fucking laid. And that," she gestures down to the bag sitting on the middle cushion between them. "Is one of the best products on the market."
Quinn rolls her eyes. "And why do I need it? I'm dating Puck now."
The Latina just arches an eyebrow and huffs a laugh. "You telling me you're spreading them for Pucky already?" she asks teasingly knowing full well it's not the case.
Quinn lightly blushes, despite herself. "Well, no..."
Santana just leans forward and reaches into the bag, grabbing the, ahem, package and tossing it onto the blonde's lap. Quinn nearly recoils right off of the couch, and Santana rolls her eyes though her expression grows tender.
"You don't have to use it if you don't want to, obviously. Just don't be so fucking terrified of it. I know you were raised all 'Catholic-guilt' and shit, but it's totally normal to masturbate, Q."
The blonde laughs in absolute mortification and raises a hand over her eyes. "Oh my god, I seriously cannot believe we're having this conversation."
Santana arches a curious eyebrow, "Why not? We're fucking BFFs or whatever, aren't we?"
Quinn nods but doesn't drop her hand, and Santana presses on.
"And friends can talk about sex and have it not be weird, right?"
The blonde shakes her head. "For the record, I don't want to know anything about you and Rachel's sex life."
Santana rolls her eyes. "Well I already knew that. Besides, there's still nothing to tell."
Quinn drops her hand, slightly wide-eyed. "Really?" she asks a little disbelievingly.
The Latina nods. "She's a virgin."
Quinn huffs a laugh. "Oh my god, Man-Hands still has her v-card."
Santana just leans forward and punches her shoulder, hard.
The blonde winces and raises a hand to the soon-to-be bruise, looking positively offended. "What the fuck, S?"
"Nicknames," the brunette responds simply. "You don't seem to be learning, so we're gonna try some aversion therapy. Enter: your unpleasant sensation."
Quinn groans and rolls her eyes, rubbing her throbbing shoulder as she looks over curiously, unable to fight the urge to ask. "So... how are you dealing with the no sex? I mean, that's kind of your thing, isn't it?"
Santana just sighs, picking up the vibrator and handing it to Quinn, who actually takes it into one of her hands this time. "Like I said: masturbation. Completely normal."
The blonde shakes her head lightly with a bit of a smile. "I am never touching your hand again."
Santana chuckles and Quinn takes to looking at the packaging between her hands. It makes Santana smile, even though she's relatively sure the girl's only doing it to humour her.
"So... we're having dinner with the Berries tonight," she says simply after a bit of a silence, looking up with a bit of an apologetic smile.
Quinn drops the package back onto the couch and looks over wide-eyed. "You want me to have dinner with you, Rachel, and Rachel's dads?" The brunette nods, and she scoffs with a bit of a derisive laugh. "No thank you, fifth wheel."
Santana rolls her eyes. "Come on, Q. It'd be ridiculous for you to stay here all by yourself on Christmas Day."
"Well, I wouldn't be all by myself, I'd be taking care of the little chimpan-Zee!" She goes high-pitched at the end, leaning towards the top of the couch to nuzzle her nose against the kitten in question.
Santana laughs slightly at the action. "Well, what about if I just kicked you out of my house for, say, four hours?" she teases, earning a roll of the eyes. She quickly grows serious, though, and wonders whether she's hitting below the belt as she speaks. "Q..." she starts carefully, a bit hesitantly. "Your mom knows you're here... which means your dad probably knows you're here... do you really want to run the risk of him showing up here while you're alone?"
Quinn sighs heavily, and the look she shoots the Latina is pointed, almost frustrated, and Santana immediately knows it was a low-blow. "I suppose not," she grinds out through gritted teeth. It's a few long moments before she drops her gaze with another sigh. "Fine," she cedes softly.
Santana just nods with a smile. "Good then, it's settled. You'll just have to stomach whatever the fuck 'Tofurkey' is with me," she says with an involuntary grimace.
The blonde's face washes over in complete disgust. "What the―" she starts before raising a hand. "No, you know what? Nevermind," she shakes her head. "It's probably better if I don't even know."
Santana chuckles again before smiling. "It's gonna be ok, Q. We just show up and get free food and slightly awkward conversation," she says light-heartedly with a bit of a shrug.
Quinn sighs lightly and shakes her head. "Her dads probably hate me."
The brunette nods, "Very likely. But, if they can forgive me then they can probably forgive you, too. Besides, you're just a dinner guest, it's not like you're trying to have sex with Rachel or something," she slightly smirks.
Quinn raises a hand to her chest and swallows heavily. "That might be the most disgusting thing you've ever said to me."
Santana rolls her eyes before shaking her head with a bit of a chuckle, already relatively sure this is going to be one of the more interesting dinners she's ever attended.
It's not until close to 6 when Quinn and Santana head over to the Berry household for Christmas dinner. The first meeting goes about as awkwardly as expected―David being as unimpressed, if not even more, by Quinn's presence as he was by Santana's initially―but by the time dinner is ready and everyone sits down to eat, the mood has lightened considerably.
They dine on the Tofurkey, fresh steamed vegetables, some sort of squash casserole, as well as vegan-prepared mashed potatoes and vegan gravy, the food not tasting nearly as bad as either Santana or Quinn had expected. They make idle chatter around the table, ploughing through a good portion of the meal before the conversation shifts slightly.
"So, Quinn," Kevin starts, looking over at the blonde curiously. "Your last name's Fabray, right?" The girl nods. "You're Russell Fabray's daughter?" She nods again, and Kevin nods lightly in return. "Funny coincidence... or not, considering this is Lima..." he trails off, slightly lost in thought. "Anyway, we went to high school with him," he gestures between himself and his husband, who is looking down at his plate. "And I've also had the privilege of dealing with him a few times through work. He's..." the man furrows his brow in thought, not wanting to insult the new guest's family. "Well, he's quite the character."
David huffs slightly as he takes a bite of his food. "Understatement," he mumbles out with no small amount of animosity in his voice, earning a bit of a glare from Kevin.
Quinn actually slightly laughs at that. "Yeah," she sighs out a little awkwardly, not really wanting to talk about the man right now―who seems to be absolutely impossible to escape, even in conversation.
David looks up at her with an eyebrow raised. "Did I hear right, that your parents got divorced?"
She shakes her head. "Just separated, nothing official or anything."
He nods. "So it's just you and your mom alone in that big house now?"
"Uhh," Quinn lets out slightly wide-eyed, looking over at Santana, who is across the table from her, a bit pleadingly.
Santana clears her throat. "She's actually staying with me right now."
Raised eyebrows come from both Kevin and David, who are now staring at the Latina in interest. She just shoots them both a look and a slight shake of her head to let them know that it's probably best not to talk about the particulars of the situation.
Kevin seems to get it and he nods knowingly. "Well that sounds like a nice time," he smiles softly as he looks over at Quinn.
Quinn just nods in return, and a silence settles in for a moment.
"So how was everyone's last week of school?" Kevin asks curiously, trying to ease the bit of discomfort that has migrated into the room as he alternates his stare between the three girls around the table.
"Santana got suspended," Quinn chuckles, wanting to shift the attention away from herself, earning an absolute glare from the Latina across from her that makes her slightly sink into her chair when she notices.
Once Santana's convinced that she's scared the living shit out of Quinn, she chances a glance over at David, who is looking at her with blatant disapproval, and then at Kevin, who just has a questioning eyebrow raised.
"'Suspended'?" he echoes in slight confusion. "Suspended for what?"
Santana sighs and drops her chin onto her hand. "Fighting," she answers simply before silencing herself with a forkful of potatoes.
David scoffs and shakes his head, seemingly having had his lingering suspicions of the Latina being a bad seed verified, and Kevin's eyes just go wide.
"Fighting?"
"Yeah, it was great," Rachel beams, staring at Santana dreamily.
Both Kevin and David turn a complete look of disbelief towards their daughter, who blushes and looks down.
Santana just raises a finger. "For the record, I was defending your daughter's honour."
Rachel looks up again with a smile and a nod. "It's true."
David leans forward in his seat, fixing his glasses as he stares pointedly at Santana, a questioning eyebrow arched. "Defending her from what?"
Santana opens her mouth to respond but fails to produce any sound, still feeling incredibly uncomfortable under David's scrutiny. Quinn notices and clears her throat.
"Some girls slushied Ru―" she catches herself, looking up uncertainly to be met by a stern shake of the head and a threatening fist raised across the table from her. "Rachel on Monday morning... and at lunch they started making homophobic comments, and, well," she slightly shrugs. "Santana stuck up for her."
"And got a black eye in the process," Rachel adds, looking at the Latina adoringly, reaching a hand over to squeeze one of Santana's thighs under the table.
Santana looks over at the shorter brunette with a shy, thankful smile, and David leans back in his chair in slight amazement.
"Not to mention," Quinn starts again, her mouth slightly full, pointing out her fork in emphasis. "She got kicked off of Cheerios for dating your daughter."
As soon as the words are out the blonde's eyes widen and she claps a hand over her mouth, quickly realizing what she's done. 'I'm so sorry,' she mouths between her fingers to Santana, but the Latina is already shooting her an absolute death glare, which is soon followed by a sharp foot that makes solid impact with her shin. She hides the grimace behind her hand.
Rachel slaps Santana's shoulder, wide-eyed. "You did not tell me that you got kicked off! And for dating me?.!" she scoffs in disbelief.
David turns towards Kevin. "'Cheerios'?" he asks curiously.
The larger man just waves a dismissive hand. "Cheerleading," he clarifies absently as he leans forward across the table, looking pointedly at Santana. "You're telling me that you got kicked off of the team for, what, being gay?"
Santana shrugs and looks back down at her plate. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
Quinn lightly kicks her leg under the table. 'So you're gay now?' she mouths with a playful expression and a raise of her eyebrows.
Santana just rolls her eyes and shoots the blonde another glare as Kevin huffs in disbelief.
"Oh no, no," he crosses his arms as he leans back into his chair. "That is not going to fucking fly."
David slaps the larger man's shoulder, almost reflexively, for the use of the f-word, but glances over at Santana. His expression reads as conflicted, the man seemingly having trouble reconciling the Santana he's heard so much about with the girl in front of him―a girl who seems to have given up a hell of a lot to be with his daughter.
Kevin is unaffected by the slap and just shakes his head. "I think I'll be getting in contact with my friends over at the ACLU, because this is so far from legal that it's not even funny."
Santana's eyes widen and she shakes her head pronouncedly. "No," she says pleadingly, earning a bevy of confused expressions. "Please don't do that."
Everyone at the table is looking at her in shock and she looks down, chewing her lip.
"Santana..." Rachel draws out, raising a hand to place it on the girl's shoulder. "Why on earth wouldn't you want to do this?"
"Yeah, S," Quinn says questioningly. "I mean, as much as it pains me to say it, I'm with Rachel on this one..."
Santana sighs, staring at her plate as she speaks. "If I go through with this―all the legal stuff―and I rejoin the Cheerios, they're gonna lose their private funding... and if they lose that funding, they won't even have a shot at Nationals." She chances a glance up and everyone is still looking at her confusedly. She sighs again. "B needs cheerios. She needs Nationals. It's the only chance she has at getting into a good college."
Kevin and David both look over at Rachel in puzzlement, wondering who this mystery 'B' is; Rachel just squeezes the Latina's shoulder reassuringly, shaking her head at her fathers to let them know it's neither the time nor the place; and Quinn looks over at the Latina with a soft smile and a nod, happy that the girl is looking out for her friend.
There's an uncomfortable silence for a few incredibly long moments before the doorbell rings.
It's David who clears his throat awkwardly before rising from his seat. "Well, I guess I'll go get that..." he trails off with equal awkwardness before disappearing into the hallway.
"Who's 'B'?" Kevin asks simply once the smaller man is gone, causing Santana to sigh.
"My best friend," she answers plainly before taking another bite of food, feeling no need to elaborate at the moment.
The man nods in slight understanding, though there's still a bit of confusion playing across his features. Another silence settles in, for a shorter while this time around, before Quinn inadvertently breaks it.
"No fucking way," she mumbles out in surprise, wide-eyed as she stares down the hallway.
Santana turns around to see what the blonde is looking at, but can only see David walking back towards them.
"Well, it appears we have a visitor," the balding man says simply, adjusting his glasses once more as he re-enters the room, and it's only when he steps aside that Santana's jaw drops and Kevin and Rachel share a confused look.
"Mija!" Maria Lopez remarks as she steps into the room, her arms wide open for a hug and an equally wide smile across her face―a smile that Santana both loves and loathes.
"Mom..." she draws out flatly, not moving an inch, completely flabbergasted. "What are you doing here?"
Rachel's eyebrows fly as she looks over at the girl next to her. "Mom?" she echoes, earning a bit of a sheepish smile in return. She alternates her gaze between Santana and Maria a few times before she can completely see it―the older woman's appearance being a pretty good indication of what Santana will probably look like in about twenty years.
"Is that any way to welcome your mother back? Come give me a hug, mija!" she compels, waving her arms out in emphasis.
Santana hesitates again, a part of her wanting to run upstairs and lock herself into the guestroom, but a larger part of her is still elated to see her mom. After a few anxious moments, she reluctantly rises from her chair and takes the few small steps to reach her mother's waiting arms.
They hug, and it's too firm on Maria's end and too loose on Santana's end, and it really just is, in a word, weird.
"That's more like it!" the older woman smiles when she steps out of the embrace. She leaves a hand lingering on Santana's shoulder as she speaks. "Imagine my surprise when I get home and you're not there! I called that Brittany girl"―no one in the room misses the disdain with which the name is said―"and she suggested that I might find you here."
Santana nods and swallows the impossibly large lump in her throat, suddenly wondering if she might have swallowed a bone... then wondering if Tofurkey even has bones.
Kevin can see the tension mounting and quickly stands, walking around the table and extending his hand, "Hi there, Mrs. Lopez. I'm Kevin, Kevin Berry," he smiles.
Maria takes the offered hand. "Hello," she smiles in return. "It's actually Miss Rodriguez, Maria Rodriguez―" she corrects and Santana's eyes widen, having had no idea that her mother had gone back to using her maiden name. "But you can just call me Maria," she smiles as she relinquishes the man's hand. There's a moment of silence before she leans slightly down towards her daughter's ear. "[Why are there two men here?]"
Raised eyebrows happen all around the room at the sudden switch to Spanish, but Santana doesn't miss a beat.
"Kevin and David are Rachel's fathers," she explains simply.
Maria smiles and nods in understanding before slipping into Spanish once more. "[Fathers...]" she draws out warily through the smile. "[Two of them?]"
Santana rolls her eyes. "[Yes, mom, they're gay. Deal with it.] So how was your trip?"
The older woman just waves her off dismissively. "We have plenty of time to talk about the trip when you get home." She grows softer. "[Why are you hanging around people like this? God does not approve of this lifestyle.]"
Santana's brow drops. "[Well, I'll let you know when 'God' shows up.] Mom, this is my friend Rachel," she gestures towards the seated girl.
Rachel hesitantly stands from her chair and extends her hand.
Maria's brow drops briefly as she glares at her daughter, "[Do not mock God,]" but she immediately shifts back to a smile as she looks over at the diva. "Hello there, Rachel, it's very nice to meet you."
Santana watches her mother in a bit of amazement. She had completely forgotten how quickly the woman could switch; how absolutely disgusted she could be with a situation, but she'd act like everything was all sunshine and lollipops; to put it simply, just how completely and utterly fake she could be.
"You, too," Rachel says sheepishly before retreating back to her chair.
"And you know Quinn," Santana gestures an arm to the blonde across the table.
Maria just nods at the girl in acknowledgement, and Quinn returns the gesture though she has an eyebrow raised―her rudimentary knowledge of Spanish giving her a fair idea of what's going on.
David lets out a sigh and rubs his hands together. "Well, now that we're all acquainted, Maria," he earns the older woman's attention. "You're more than welcome to join us for dinner," he offers with a smile, gesturing to the open chair at the foot of the table.
Santana looks down at her socks with wide eyes, knowing just how horrible of an idea that would be―but, thankfully, it seems this time luck is on her side.
"Oh, don't be silly," Maria waves a dismissive hand once more. "I wouldn't want to intrude." She says it with a bit of distaste, but it's so subtle that Santana's sure she's the only one who picked up on it. "I just came by to let Santana know that I'm back and that I'll see her when she gets home tonight." She squeezes her daughter's shoulder, shooting a wide smile at everyone in the room before looking down at the girl. "Mija, why don't you walk me to the door," she requests with a firmer squeeze, earning a nod of acquiescence in return. "I very much appreciate the invitation, but I've had a long day of travelling and would just prefer to go home and unpack."
The two men nod their understanding.
"Merry Christmas to you all and God bless!" Maria says cheerily before turning back towards the hallway, practically tugging Santana along.
One they get out into the hall, the woman's voice completely changes in pitch. "[I don't understand why you try to test God by spending all of your time with sinners. If it's not that criminal Jewish boy, it's that Dutch whore, and now this?]" She scoffs and shakes her head, using a hand to cross her body as she continues to walk.
Santana can feel some of the familiar rage roiling up, but settles on rolling her eyes and speaking through gritted teeth. "[You just got back, can we not start in on this 'God' and 'sinners' crap right away?]"
Maria just continues shaking her head, muttering to herself in Spanish up until she reaches the door. She pulls on her shoes before turning around with an eyebrow arched. "[Just one question before I go, when did we get a cat?]"
Santana looks down with a bit of a smile, trying to hide it from her mother. "It was a gift."
The older woman's face washes over in complete disgust. "From that Pierce girl..."
Santana looks up with a cutting glare, "No, mom. From Rachel. Rachel is my friend and she gave me a Christmas gift. It's not a big fucking deal."
Maria's eyes widen and she delivers a solid slap to the ex-cheerio's cheek. "[You watch your language, Santana! You are not a trucker!]" she says firmly, pointing a finger out in reprimand.
Santana raises her hand to her cheek, the slap reverberating through her still-tender orbital bone, but she hides the wince and rather rolls her eyes again. "Just go home, mom," she breathes out, angrily but exhaustedly. "I'll see you when I get there."
The woman nods. "[Yes. And we will have to have a long talk when you do,]" she says simply as she opens the door.
Santana groans at the mere thought before her eyebrows rise in remembrance. "Oh! [Just to warn you, Quinn's staying with us right now...]" she trails off, looking up uncertainly.
Maria turns around and nods in understanding, her expression having softened considerably. "[Ok. I'll see you both at home, then,]" she smiles lightly before finally leaving.
Santana seals and locks the door behind the woman, releasing a deep sigh as she drops her forehead to rest on the wood. I can't fucking believe this. She starts to wonder if it's even possible that it's a coincidence―her dad calling her just two days ago because he talked to her mom, and her mom coming back today. It's all just too fucking alternate universe for words. She groans in frustration and slightly bangs her head against the door before spinning and pressing her back against it, sliding down to take a seat on the floor, dropping her head into her hands.
The honeymoon period with Maria never lasts very long, and Santana knows exactly how it will play out. The first few days will be all fake smiles and 'how-was-your-day's and tender hugs put on for show. The next few days will turn into nitpicking and nagging and finding everything, anything that Santana's doing wrong. The following days will turn into finding faults in Santana's actual character, in the character of her friends, and harping on them. And the days following those days? Well, then the resentment settles back in; right where it always has been.
For all intents and purposes, and to any outside observer, Maria Lopez is actually a very kind, caring and, especially, charming woman... she just happens to be a kind, caring and charming woman who has absolutely no idea how to be a mother. She's probably showed more compassion to Quinn over the years than she has to Santana. In fact, for the majority of Santana's life, she's treated her as more of a houseguest than as her own flesh and blood, and, truth be told, it's just not enough. And it never has been. Not since her father left.
Sometimes Santana thinks that maybe it's just resentment towards her father projected onto her―Santana's own face sharing many of the man's defining features. Sometimes she even thinks that she might have done something wrong to lose or become unworthy of her mother's love. Most of the time, though, she prefers just not to think about it at all, because if there's one thing she's truly grown to understand over the years, it's that she'll never know for sure.
The shitty thing about actually thinking about it, though? It fucking gets to her a lot more than she would ever wish to admit. As she sits, her head cradled in her hands, leaning against the front door of the fucking Berry household, she feels them. She feels tears―fucking pussy-ass, weak-willed tears burning like acid at the back of her eyelids―and they make her nothing but fucking angry. She balls her hands into fists and starts rapping her knuckles softly against her skull. You don't care, you don't care, you don't care, she tells herself, trying in vain to fight the salty liquid; but, even as she's replaying the words, she knows it's the biggest line of bullshit she's ever fed herself.
The truth is, Santana Lopez has never been loved―not in the traditional parent-child, unconditional sense―and it's fucked her up good and proper. She knows it, but it doesn't change anything. She's spent so many years believing that she's unlovable, so many years trying to convince herself that she doesn't need to be loved, that she's become completely incapable of even processing the concept. And yet, somehow, it doesn't change the absolutely involuntary and incredibly deep yearning she has for her mom to love her, to approve of her, to tell her she's proud of her. She scoffs and shakes her head at the ridiculousness of the thought. Man the fuck up, Lopez. That's not her, and that's not you.
Rachel sticks her head out into the hallway, having heard the door close a few minutes ago now and having grown concerned about the younger Latina. Her heart wrenches as she looks at the girl―her defeated posture, her head in her hands, the slight sniffling that... might even be tears?
She pads over softly on the carpet. Santana can hear her coming but she still doesn't look up, rather focusing her energy on sniffing back any emotions that may be threatening to escape. Rachel slides down the door as well, taking a seat right next to the ex-cheerio before placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder.
"Are you ok?" she inquires softly, carefully.
Santana slightly laughs and shakes her head. "Um, not really," she breathes out, hoping the laughter will cloud the shakiness of her voice.
Rachel sees through the façade but just nods and stays silent, knowing that if the girl needs to talk she'll do so on her own time. Rather, she shifts her hand up from Santana's shoulder to her chin, letting their eyes meet. "I'm here," she says with a reassuring nod before leaning in to press her lips softly against the Latina's. They exchange a few slow, soft, chaste kisses before Santana pulls away, wiping a leaking tear from her cheek.
"I'm sorry," she breathes out softly, shyly, as she looks back down, hating the way her emotions are betraying her right now.
Rachel's face washes over in complete concern. "You have nothing at all to be sorry for," she assures the girl firmly, taking the Latina's hand into her own and raising it up to place a soft kiss on its back.
Santana shakes her head. "You shouldn't have to see me like this," she says earnestly.
Rachel's brow furrows. "What are you talking about? See you like what?" she asks curiously as she lifts her hand to brush some of the girl's hair behind her ear.
Santana chuckles in slight frustration. "Like this," she gestures at her red eyes. "Like a complete fucking wimp, cowering on the floor."
Rachel replaces her hand on the girl's cheek, turning the girl to face her once more as she runs her thumb reassuringly along the smooth skin. "Santana, you're allowed to feel things," she says softly, her brown eyes looking deep into Santana's own. "You don't always have to be this tough, emotionless, funny person. You're allowed to break down, too. Please don't ever forget that."
Santana lightly scoffs, but her heart flutters and her eyes water again, though this time she's unsure whether the tears are because of her mother or because of Rachel's words. She's never had anyone care for her so much, never had anyone encourage her to embrace her emotions rather than bury them away, and she finds herself feeling that unfamiliar twinge in her stomach again... the one that's not hunger, the one that's not lust... the one that Santana's still not sure what it is, but she kind of likes it.
She raises her own hand to the diva's cheek, guiding her slowly in so that their lips meet again, feeling a tear run down her cheek, knowing the girl can feel it when it runs down to where their lips are touching. They linger in the embrace, not moving at all, just savouring the intimate contact for a few minutes, before Santana pulls back and drops her head to rest on the diva's own.
"Thank you," she breathes out softly, looking pointedly down into the smaller girl's eyes. "For being here... you know, not here as in here in your home, but in the larger sense," she adds with a bit of a playful smile.
Rachel lightly chuckles. "Of course," she smiles wide, leaning in to peck the Latina's lips once more before moving to stand, extending a hand for the ex-cheerio to take. "We should go back and finish dinner before it gets cold."
Santana looks up a bit uncertainly but nods, taking the diva's hand and pulling herself up. Rachel maintains her hold on the Latina's hand as they head back towards the kitchen, and Santana smiles at the continued contact. Maybe it really is all she needs.
The rest of dinner passes by uneventfully and is followed by viewings of both 'Holiday Inn' and 'White Christmas' in honour of the day. By the time Santana and Quinn get back to the Lopez household, the time is nearing 11. Quinn heads upstairs to get ready for bed and Santana heads towards the master bedroom to grab the things she's been keeping in her room of late.
The door is open, and Santana can see her mother inside, unpacking things from her suitcase and hanging them up in the closet. She sighs silently, definitely not prepared for any sort of 'long talk' right now, as she raises a hand to knock on the doorframe.
Maria turns around with a bit of a start, raising a hand to her chest. "Mija!" she slightly scolds. "[You scared me.]"
Santana just nods. "I just need to get some of my stuff," she explains lamely as she enters the room, her mother arching a curious eyebrow as she does. "I've been kind of living in here."
Maria nods her understanding. "Ok. [Where's Quinn?]"
"In my room," she answers simply as she heads over to the nightstand.
A silence settles in for a few moments as Santana grabs her things from the drawer of the nightstand, some things from the vanity, and some clothes from the drawer of the dresser that she had claimed as her own, before the older woman clears her throat.
"Santana..." she draws out, Santana immediately knowing that they're about to shift into conversation mode.
She sighs and runs a hand along her face. "Mom, I'm tired. Can we just talk in the morning?" she asks, looking at the woman pleadingly.
Maria's brow furrows, but she just nods. "Ok."
Santana nods in return before heading off to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. When Santana heads back towards the doorway of her room she can see that Quinn has changed into her pjs, but is slinging her fully-packed duffle bag over her shoulder.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Santana asks confusedly as she looks at the girl with an appraising stare.
"Oh," the blonde looks over in a bit of surprise. "Well, I figure since your mom's back you're gonna want your bed back, so I'm heading down to the living room."
Santana's eyes widen and she scoffs lightly. "Don't be a douche, Fabray, I'll take the couch."
Quinn shakes her head. "No way, S. Couch is all mine."
The Latina's brow drops. "You're taking the fucking bed, Tubbers."
Quinn arches a defiant eyebrow. "It's your bed."
"And you're my guest. I'm not gonna make you sleep on the fucking couch," Santana shakes her head.
The blonde rolls her eyes. "Why?" she breathes out with a sigh. "I slept on it all the time when I was younger."
"No... you slept on the pullout when you were younger. As you may have noticed, the couch down there now is completely different... and a complete piece of shit to sleep on. Just ask Puck if you need verification on that one."
Quinn shrugs disinterestedly. "Whatever, at least it's a couch and not the floor."
Santana places her things down on her desk before planting her hands firmly on her hips. "You are not fucking sleeping on the couch!"
The blonde mirrors her posture, her voice rising in staunch defiance. "Well neither are fucking you!"
Santana raises a hand to her forehead and groans, realizing they've reached an impasse, before looking over at the girl exhaustedly. "Well... there is one glaringly obvious alternative that we haven't considered yet..."
Quinn arches an eyebrow. "I really hope you're not suggesting..." she trails off, raising a hand to gesture it between their bodies.
Santana smirks amusedly. "Oh, for sure, Q. Total sexy times up in here with the mominator next door," she gestures to the wall.
Quinn's brow drops and she points out a serious finger. "No funny business."
Santana just looks over with an unimpressed scoff. "Q, if I really wanted to? I would've tapped that tender ass a long time ago."
The blonde slightly laughs and shakes her head in disbelief, raising a hand to her forehead. "Oh my god, you really are the female Puck. It's just... uncanny."
Santana just shrugs. "What can I say?" she smiles smugly, brushing imaginary dust from her shoulders. "We both have swag."
Quinn rolls her eyes as she places her duffle bag down on the ground. "A.K.A. you're both completely delusional."
Santana just chuckles as she climbs under the covers on her side of the bed, Quinn soon following suit and climbing in on the other side. They stay silent for a few moments, both staring up at the ceiling, before Quinn turns on her side to face the Latina.
"How long was she gone for this time?" she asks softly.
Santana drops her head to the side to look at the blonde. "Seven months... ish."
Quinn nods with a sympathetic smile. "Any idea why she's back?"
The brunette sighs and looks back up at the ceiling. "Probably got dumped by sugar daddy number five thousand."
Quinn sighs, "I'm sorry, S. Shitty situation and all," she elaborates with a slight shrug.
Santana turns to face the girl again with a bit of a sad smile. "Yeah, for both of us."
The blonde laughs lightly before her mouth settles into an equally sad smile. "Thanks for giving me a place to stay, S. You really didn't have to do that... especially after everything that's happened between us." She looks down in a bit of shame.
Santana reaches over and places a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I was serious. I know you'd do the same for me, Tubby."
Quinn rolls her eyes with a bit of a scoff. "You're a bitch, but I kinda love you a little."
Santana shakes her head. "I knew it," she smirks, earning a roll of the eyes but tugging on Quinn's shoulder to pull her into a loose hug. "We're gonna be alright, Q... the both of us."
Quinn nods against her shoulder, "Fuck yeah, we are," before pulling away with a shy smile. Santana just smiles in return before the blonde turns around to turn off the light on the nightstand. "Good night, S."
"Oh!" Santana remarks as if she's just come across some great revelation. Quinn turns back around with a questioning eyebrow raised. She can't fight the slight smirk that creeps across her lips as she speaks. "If you feel something hard press up against you in the middle of the night... well..."
Quinn groans and rolls her eyes. "You never quit, do you?"
The Latina just grins. "I usually hit it before I quit it."
The blonde laughs incredulously. "Can we please just go to sleep? I am beyond fucking exhausted."
Santana shakes her head. "And we didn't even get to fucking," she deadpans.
Quinn just rolls her eyes with a bit of a chuckle and turns away. "Good night, perv."
Santana smiles as she turns to flick off the light, "Night, fatty."
Isn't it funny how the holidays always equal drama?
Also, writing today while watching/listening to the livestream of Glee Live totally did nothing to distract me from the fact that the cast is in my city and I'm not going to see them :( lol. Total creys.
